


in the dead of night, her (feminist) knight

by cooliopio



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: But he's cool about it because he was raised by madame christmas, Gen, Menstruation, Periods, Pre-Slash, Riza is 13, Roy helps a mortified Riza, Roy is like 15 or 16, Young!Royai, blood warning, but not like grossly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cooliopio/pseuds/cooliopio
Summary: Riza was four months into thirteen when she woke up, for the first time, with her bedsheets stained with red. She was a little confused, at first. Her mother, long passed, was never there for her to ask questions about… well, girl problems.Riza had pushed all the confusion to the back of her mind upon waking, and shuffled to the bathroom careful as to not trip on her sheets bundled in her arms.She kicked the door closed from behind her when she made it inside.At the sink, she heard a gentle knock at the door.“Riza?”It was her father’s apprentice.“Mister Mustang?” Riza replied, shocked and panicked; she didn’t want him,a boy, to know what had happened.--Riza experiences the crux of womanhood, but thankfully she has the best friend she could ever have to help her, however mortified she may be.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	in the dead of night, her (feminist) knight

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the summary and language in the fic that suggests periods are inherently a woman experience. Its not, of course! All types of people do or don't have periods, but, as Riza is, as far as we know, a cis woman, the language here fits her narrative. 
> 
> The blood warning is for, obviously, the blood that comes from dealing with a period??? I'm not going to skirt around the language THAT much. It doesn't get graphic at all.

Riza was four months into thirteen when she woke up, for the first time, with her bedsheets stained with red. She was a little confused, at first. Her mother, long passed, was never there for her to ask questions about… well, girl problems. She wasn’t completely unknowledgeable, either, though. Riza knew this meant something, and that this was normal, but she didn’t really know the details.

Riza had pushed all the confusion to the back of her mind upon waking, as she had to get the blood, she supposed, out of the sheets. With a huff, she had hopped out of bed, a chill running up her body as her feet hit the cold wooden floor and began stripping the bed of the sheets. Her sheets were a simple linen, even so, the most expensive thing in the house; Riza knew their financial condition and knew that they couldn’t just simply replace them.

Her movements, as these thoughts hit her, became more hurried and frantic. The sheets, bundled in a heap in her arms, blocked her line of sight; this wasn’t a problem for her, though. She was born in this house, and she spent her childhood mapping the floorplan in her head and noting all the places a small child could hide from an angry father, and so, she could easily navigate this place in the dark, no problem.

Riza had shuffled to her bedroom door, careful as to not trip on her sheets, grappled for the knob. Once in the hallway, she plodded down the hallway, past her father’s apprentice’s bedroom, and budged her way into the upper floor bathroom by shouldering open the door. She kicked the door closed from behind her when she made it inside, and then she dropped the stained sheets on the floor to turn on the light. She quickly turned on the sink and started shuffling through her sheets on the floor; she was irritated to see the stain was bigger in the light than it looked in the moonlit darkness of her bedroom.

As she rose to the sink from her knees, she heard a gentle knock at the door.

“Riza?”

It was her father’s apprentice.

“Mister Mustang?” Riza replied, shocked and panicked; she didn’t want him, _a boy_ , to know what had happened.

“Are you alright, Riza?”

“Yes!” she replied a little too quickly.

“Are you sure? Do you know what time it is?”

“Uhh… no?”

“Its four-thirty, Riza. I heard the water running but no flush to the toilet, so I figured something was wrong.”

Riza blushed, brain whirring, trying to figure how to talk her way out of this situation.

“Riza?” Mr. Mustang had whispered through the door again.

“I-I-I’m fine!” Riza squeaked, “just go back to bed!”

Roy, on the other side of the door, narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Riza was always well put together, and the epitome of composure. But right then, her voice was strained and had a twinge of panic, and, maybe, embarrassment? He decided she was not alright.

“Can I come in?” Roy prodded.

“ _No!”_ Riza all but shouted, all too aware of the stain that adorned the back of her night gown as well.

Roy didn’t like that answer. “Well, are you decent?”

“Well, yes, I guess, but don’t co—”

Right as Riza was pleading for him to remain outside, the knob to the bathroom turned, followed by it creaking open, and Roy sticking his head in the bathroom.

Riza’s face certainly flushed a deep red as Roy took in the scene within, Riza embarrassedly clutching the soiled sheets. No matter for him, however.

“Oh, you got your period. Is that all?”

Even though it seemed impossible, she flushed even deeper, nodding her head jerkily.

Roy shrugged, “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Well, I guess that’s easy for me to say.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, the only noise coming from the still-running faucet.

Roy cleared his throat, “do you need help washing them out?”

Riza’s eyes flickered from him, to the blood, to him, to the blood again.

“Not… not really,” She shrugged.

“Do you _want_ help washing them?”

They just stared at each other again.

Roy shook his head, “do you know the best way to get blood out of things?”

Riza thought about it for a moment, even though she often hunted small game to eat, she had clothes that were dedicated to that purpose, and so she never tried to wash the blood out of them.

She shook her head ‘no’ in response.

“Oh. Well, just use cold water and soap. Hot water will just make it set in worse.”

Riza nodded and finally started running the still-fresh blood off under the frigid water.

Roy couldn’t help but notice she still looked a little flighty, but not just because of her embarrassment.

“Riza? What else is bothering you?”

Riza bit her lip, too cautious to respond.

“It’s alright,” Roy assured, “I won’t tattle on you or anything.”

Riza squeezed her eyes shut as she continued scrubbing, “Father,” she murmured.

Roy had let out a drawn out, “oh,” as everything seemed to click in his mind. “You don’t want him to know?”

Riza nodded.

“And you think he’ll get mad at you if they stain?”

She nodded again. Berthold Hawkeye may have been a great alchemy teacher, but Roy was never blind in this regard, he knew that Berthold was a less-than-stellar father.

“Well then, let me help you. The longer they sit the more likely it is to stain.”

Riza gave a resigned sigh, and she gave an indifferent shrug of her shoulders. Roy took this as a sign of approval, and he walked into the bathroom fully. He grabbed the fitted sheet, as she was currently washing the loose one. He sat on the edge of the small washing basin and turned on that faucet so they could work in tandem.

Five or so minutes passed as they worked to get the stains out before Riza spoke,

“How do you… you know…”

“How do I know so much about handling stuff like this?” Roy clarified.

Riza, yet again, nodded.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he had gathered his words, “I actually live with my aunt, since my parents both died.”

Riza looked at him curiously, she did not know this about him.

“My aunt runs a bar, and we live in the apartment areas above it. The type of bar she runs employs a lot of women, and some of them live there full time as well as work, if they want. They’re my foster sisters.”

Riza hummed in acknowledgement.

“So, being the only guy surrounded by twelve women at a time, you get used to things.”

Riza nodded slowly, this made sense. She said as much to him.

“Yeah. So, this doesn’t faze me. Don’t be embarrassed.” Roy paused before remembering how young Riza was compared to him, “Is this your first one?” he asked.

Riza had turned her head away from him as she nodded shyly. He could still see the tips of her ears burning red.

“Ah. How about this, you go change and bring the one you’re wearing back to get washed, and then I’ll take care of this so you can sleep. Alright?”

His tone, however gentle and caring, didn’t make it seem like she had much of a choice. Not that she minded—as she was getting over her panic, she was starting to feel pains in her lower back. She skirted out of the bathroom, leaving the sheet she was still scrubbing out of paranoia even though she had already gotten the stain out, and returned not to long after, old nightgown in hand.

Roy threw it in the sink to sit under the water as he continued working on the other one.

“Be sure to sleep on a ratty towel you don’t care about getting ruined since you don’t have anything else. You’ll just have to manage without sheets on the bed, for tonight. Sorry.”

Riza shook her head, “that’s perfectly fine. Thank you, Roy,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact, stumbling over his first name, mouth so unused to its sounds. 

She closed the door before heading to the linen closet and grabbing some beat up towels that should have been tossed years ago, but she supposed it was good that they still owned them, in her situation.

She climbed into bed, on top of the towels, careful to arrange all the fabrics around her as to minimize risk and fell into a deep sleep rather quickly.

\--

The next morning, when Riza woke, her room was much brighter than usual. She looked at her bedside clock and realized that she had overslept her usual waking hour by a couple hours. She bolted up in bed, panicked, worried that her father would be mad that she didn’t prepare breakfast at the normal time. She moved quickly to assuage the situation, but as she did so, the memories of the night previous came flooding back to her. Both literally and figuratively. Tears welled in her eyes. Usually, she was unemotional, but everything was too overwhelming to her at the time.

She swung her legs over the bed and sat a moment before standing up. As she raised her gaze from the floor, she noticed a small bundle of things just inside her door accompanied by a piece of paper. She walked over to it and assessed the items. She read what was on the paper, first.

_Riza—_

_I woke up early, earlier than you usually do, to make it to the general store to pick you up some things so you would have them upon waking. I hope this helps for the week._

_Don’t worry if you sleep in (the girls at home usually sleep longer when it’s that time of the month), I’ll make something for your father for breakfast of you’re not up at your usual hour._

_If you need anything else this week, or ever, don’t be afraid to ask me. I’ll always want to help you._

_\--Roy_

Riza dropped the letter back to the floor as she sifted through the cloth sack on the floor.

Menstrual pads, chocolate, and pain killers.

Riza let out a wry, yet grateful, laugh.

_Maybe city boys aren’t so bad after all,_ she thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Am i the only one who likes to read period fics when im on my period? having the characters i like struggle with me is always somewhat comforting, haha!  
> I also just wanted to explore a different angle to young!Royai, since the fanon assumes that they had been living with each other in their childhood; Which means... they grow up both literally and figuratively! ... heh... puberty ;( i dont miss her, i looked so awkward.  
> also, they definitely did not have PADS WITH WINGS in the 1900s, but pads *were* on the market, however preliminary they were. But for the sake of the fic and also the fact that amestris is probably more technically advanced in the 1900s than irl (like, automail exists??? im sure they figured out pads) so we can just say they were as wide spread then as they are now
> 
> kudos/comments appreciated as always!  
> tumblr @unfairlawyer!


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